Harry Potter and the Hobbit Tale
by PartiallyObsessed
Summary: "Lovely plan," Harry drawled, "One question, though. Do I ask the dragon for the portkey before or after you band of gits start poking the blasted thing with swords? Or tell me Thorin Bloody Oakenshield, did you expect it to drop dead as soon as it saw your magnificence? " [Summary Inside, Slash]
1. Chapter 1

"Lovely plan," Harry drawled, "One question, though. Do I ask the dragon for the portkey before or after you band of gits start poking the blasted thing with swords? Or tell me Thorin Bloody Oakenshield, did you expect it to drop dead as soon as it saw your _magnificence_? "

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. I live in a box...which has wifi. You mustn't question it.**

Warnings: Slash, Slight Dumbledore Bashing, Swearing, & the rating might go up later.

Have you heard that story of Bilbo Baggins being tricked by an old Wizard who invited thirteen Drwarves to the poor old Hobbit's home, who ate _all_ his food and then led him on an extremely dangerous journey (all the while, encouraging the poor Hobbit to **steal**)?

Then I'm positive you've heard the one of that poor little Harry Potter who found out he was a wizard (not the evil kind with green skin and warts, heaven's no. The kind with the wands and brooms) and had to kill off the evil wizard who'd killed his parents, mentored by the great wizard Albus Dumbledore (who coincidentally always vanished when poor little Harry needed his help).

What did you learn from both those tales?

Avoid old wizards that have twinkling eyes. They're nothing but trouble.

Well, you'll not be reading either of those magnificent tales.

The story I'm about to tell you is about that unlucky Harry Potter who begins a journey with a quite odd group (albeit a tad bit reluctantly) to the Misty Mountains. Why? Well for that bloody portkey, of course.

Now, Harry James Potter had never said he was unlucky (he had often thought it, but never once said it outloud) but it seemed as though Lady Luck had an intense loathing (and I mean like pure bloody hatred) for the Boy-Who-Lived because no where in this grassy, green meadow did Harry see the familiar red and gold of Gryffindor Dormitory.

The familiar feeling of his wand in his pocket was the only thing that gave Harry the smallest sense of security, he wasn't unarmed in this strange place.

He wasn't unarmed, but he had no idea where he was.

Not at Hogwarts, that's for sure.

The warm breeze that fluttered towards him, giving him the softest of kisses made it quite obvious that it was not the middle of December here, and it also reminded him that he was feeling awful warm in his thick jumper.

"Oh good, you're up. I was just going to get someone to carry you."

Spinning around quickly, Harry cursed at how easily the small woman who stood before him was able to come up behind him without him noticing.

If he made such careless mistakes with a death eater or Voldemort, he would have been dead right now, and the thought unnerved him.

"I'm sorry but who are you?" Harry asked,

The woman before him was short with long curly blonde hair, the doe like brown eyes, and rosy cheeks but Harry's eyes were glued to the _large_ feet that she had.

"Well, I should be asking you that, stranger. I'm a Hobbit and we're in the Shire, I'm not the odd one here."  
>"A hobbit, did you say? What is a Hobbit?" Harry asked,<p>

He had never heard of a Hobbit. From their size Harry thought they might've been related to Goblins, but of course they were far too pretty for that and Harry had never seen a Goblin smile before.

"Arda help me. Well, a Hobbit is...well us!" the woman grumbled before waving her hands in the air, "This is useless, boy! Now come on, I think I know someone who can give you a place to stay for a while. Unless you were...just passing?"

She asked so skeptically as she glanced at Harry's odd attire (and probably lack of provisions and a weapon).

"A place to stay would be lovely, Ma'am."

As she started walking, Harry followed her quickly.

"What did you say your name was again?" the woman asked,

"Harry," Harry instantly said, before frowning. He pondered on whether or not he should tell her his real name. She looked fairly innocent but Poly Juice could turn the wicked into the kindest (well, appearance wise). Ultimately deciding against it, Harry continued, "Harry James."

"Odd name," she sniffed, "I am Rosie Sanybanks."

As she led them up the hill, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the odd looking homes and farms. Although he found it strange, Harry also found it quite beautiful and the children who ran around giggling and laughing sure seemed to agree.

"We need to get some meat on those bones." Rosie mumbled, eying Harry's small size in distaste.

Harry blushed, ducking his head.  
>He couldn't quite believe this woman. Only seconds ago, she was spouting nonsense about how he was a stranger and now she was talking about feeding him.<p>

Not that he would say no to a nice a meal, right now.

As they reached the top of the hill, Harry walked as Rosie walked up to the round green door (which looked freshly painted, the only thing off being a small symbol on the corner of the door which looked oddly like a rune).

"No one's home! Good day!", a voice called from inside.

Rosie was fuming, "Bilbo Baggins if you do not open this door, Arda help me I will break it down!"

The door was opened so fast that Harry couldn't help but wonder if these creatures, er... if these Hobbits had super speed.

The man (or Hobbit) that stood before him had curly brown hair and dark eyes. He looked kind but slightly put out at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Rosie. I just had a bit of trouble.", he said, wringing his hands.

Rosie grumbled something under her breath before nodding, "This here is Harry Potter. He needs a place to stay."

At Bilbo's unsure look, she added, "I can personally vouch for him."

That seemed to be enough because Harry was quickly ushered inside the house. As Rosie and Bilbo spoke at the door, Harry looked around the room. Finding a map lying atop a pile of books, he hurried to it.

Grabbing it, Harry frowned at the unfamiliar words written in elegant script at the top of the page,

_Middle Earth_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Goodness, calm down. I did not make a mistake, I meant to write Harry POTTER, don't worry. It'll be explained. The chapters get longer starting from the next one :)

"So, you must be Harry Potter." Bilbo said, giving Harry a small smile.

He didn't know what to make of this boy with odd garments and the strangest of objects in front of his eyes. Rosie had assured him that the boy would _be good for him and that it would be just magical._ In that odd way that Rosie spoke sometimes, with a far away look, as though she wasn't entirely there.

Harry coughed, "Did you say Potter?"

"Um..yes." Bilbo said, suddenly quite confused, "That _is_ what Rosie called you."

Harry frowned, he was certain that he had introduced himself as Harry James to the odd Hobbit. Shaking his head, he grumbled, "It's Harry James, actually."

"Oh, I apologize. Rosie sometimes…" Bilbo trailed off for a few good seconds, attempting to word it as kindly as possible, "How Rosie's mind works is something none of us quite understand. Her heart's in the right place though."

"It's fine," Harry said, wondering if the peculiar woman was a seer, "Um...the maps on the table. Are they the only ones you have?"

Bilbo looked absolutely disgruntled, "Well I couldn't imagine needing any more! No Hobbit worth his salt would imagine _actually going_ anywhere outside the Shire."

"I'm sorry," Harry said with a small smile, "I didn't mean to come off as rude, I was just curious."

"Oh no, it is completely fine. Now, how about I get some tea and biscuits for us? I made some just this morning."

As the evening rolled in, Harry decided that he quite liked Bilbo. While the Hobbit was extremely proper and fussed over the smallest of things, he was incredibly kind. He also seemed to genuinely love to tell stories (which Harry was happy for because he learned more and more of this odd place). Harry liked the man's welcoming gestures and how he actually seemed to care for even strangers.

Bilbo quite liked Harry James too. He might have been odd with his garments and glasses (as he'd explained) and his odd way of speaking but the boy was a guest that Bilbo didn't mind entertaining. He listened to every story that Bilbo told him with childish excitement and he was ever so careful and helpful.

As the sun had completely set and Bilbo rushed around to prepare the dinner, Harry asked,

"Do you mind if pay Rosie a visit?"

He was very curious about the Hobbit and thought that it was the perfect time to give Bilbo some peace and quiet, certain that his day had been quite hectic as it was.

"Of course," Bilbo said, "It's right at the bottom of the hill, the one with the red door."

Thanking him, Harry rose and walked towards the door. Only to be stopped by the Hobbit's exclamation.

"What is it?" Harry asked,

Bilbo looked affronted, "Well it is horribly cold outside and you've not got a cloak!"

"I'll be fine," Harry replied, attempting to reassure the Hobbit.

"No," Bilbo marched to the door and picked up a cloak from the trunk by the wall, "This ought to do the trick. You're not too much taller than I am."

Thanking the Hobbit, Harry threw the cloak over his shoulder and began his walk down the hill.

Most of the Hobbits that had originally been rushing around were now all inside the houses.

Just as Harry was making his way to turn by the houses, something pushed by him,

"Watch where you're going boy!" a gruff voice called,

Harry spun to face a man who while slightly taller than the Hobbits was still quite short (and his feet were quite normal sized).

"I'm not the one who ran into you," Harry spat,

The man only spared him a glare before continuing up the hill. Harry felt sorry for whoever had to entertain that pain in the arse.

Just as Harry reached the red painted door, he was greeted by Rosie, who was sitting on the grass in front of it, "You are late."

Choosing to ignore that comment, Harry slid down onto the grass next to her.

"How-"

"Do I know who you are?" Rosie asked, a far off look on her face.

It reminded Harry oddly of Luna Lovegood.

"Yeah, that." Harry said.

Rosie seemed to think for a few minutes before finally, she said, "Do you believe that Lady Luck hates you, my dear?"

"Definitely," Harry grumbled,

A small smile danced on Rosie's lips, "Consider this my apology then."

As Harry's head snapped to stare at the woman, Rosie let out a tinkling laugh, "Surely you didn't think me to just be a Hobbit! No mortal could convince Bilbo Baggins to let a completely strange looking boy into his home. He's more of a Baggins than a Took… at this particular moment."

"And...if I want to go back home?" Harry asked,

"Well then, I've got a portkey waiting for you. Guarded by a dragon in Erebor."

Harry pursed his lips and glared at the Hobbit, "You know, this is a bloody awful apology."

"Think of it an adventure," Rosie beamed.

"Or a death sentence."

"Quit being so...depressing."

"It's quite hard to do when the only options you've given me are to die here by dragon fire, or die at the hands of Voldemort." Harry grumbled,

They sat in silence for a while, until Rosie said, "I think Bilbo needs you to swoop in and rescue him now."

-x-

As Harry pushed the green door open, he was bombarded by the sound of burping and screaming and laughing. As Harry slowly walked towards the dining room, he was surprised to see many men (in bulky armor like the one who'd shoved him) eating all the food that poor Bilbo had.

They were screaming and burping and were absolutely disgusting.

He could only imagine what Hermione would have thought because at this particular moment, they were a great deal messier than Ron ever was.

Bilbo caught his eye and quickly rushed over, "I assure you that I usually do not have such unbecoming company."

Waving off the Hobbit, Harry asked, "Did you invite them?"

Grumbling something under his breath, Bilbo turned to glare at the man in grey robes that reminded Harry of Dumbledore, "That would be Gandalf."

"Gandalf?"

"The wandering grey wizard, surely you've heard of his fireworks?" Bilbo asked, his eyes glued to the messy table.

"Not quite." Harry growled before stomping over to the wizard.

Harry had quite had it with old wizards who meddled in things that didn't concern them and drag people into their stupid problems. And Bilbo was far too gentle for such a thing.

Gandalf turned to the strange boy with bright green eyes, "And who are you?"

"The only one who was invited into this house," Harry frowned, "The real question is, what the blasted hell are you thinking?"

Gandalf raised a bushy brow at the boy's harsh tone, "Have we met before?"

While Harry wanted to give the Wizard a change, he resembled Albus Dumbledore too much for Harry to let down his guard.

"Lucky for me, no."

Harry stiffened as he felt magic darting out from the old man's staff. It fluttered around him, barely brushing against him before returning to flutter and dance around him.

"Stop that!" Harry hissed,

As soon as the words left his mouth, the magic retreated to the staff once more and Gandalf's eyes twinkled in that way that made Harry quite certain that he would not like where this would be going.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you have Magic."

Harry frowned, "No matter what you say, it doesn't concern _you_ in the slightest."

Suddenly, all the laughing and singing stopped. Curious, Harry turned to look at Bilbo who looked just as baffled as he was. It was only then that Gandalf said, "He's here."

As everyone rushed to the door, Bilbo opened it, only to find himself staring at a man with long brown hair and a scraggly beard. He wore armor and had a large sword with him. Easy to say that he looked intimidating.

"This is the Hobbit?" He asked in a gruff voice, "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Harry was fuming.  
>The nerve of these people!<p> 


End file.
